


Hold Me Down

by BlossomsintheMist



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Consensual Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim is having trouble letting go.  Kon tries to help, and things progress from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Set shortly after Kon comes back, and ignoring the relaunch completely.

**Hold Me Down**

Dying sure did some weird things to your sex life, Kon had discovered.  He guessed dying had shaken up everything else about his life, so it only made sense.

 

It was still weird.  He hadn’t been aware of being dead, after all.  He’d experienced, well, dying, and then as far as he knew he’d just been alive again.  And things had been . . . really different, now.  That he’d . . . come back.

 

 _Tim_ had been really different, silent and . . . weirdly intense.  He’d always been intense, but this was different, somehow, and . . . it felt wrong, off, like something had happened inside Tim while he was gone, changed, broken, maybe, and Kon didn’t know how to fix it.  And the way Tim _looked_ at him, when they were like this, like it physically hurt, sometimes, but if he took his eyes off Kon for one second, he’d disappear . . . it scared him, kind of.

 

Kon had come back.  He didn’t know what else to do, how else to fix things.  What else could he do?  Coming back hadn’t even been something he’d done, not really.

 

Tim’s hands were digging into his biceps, hard enough that with anyone else they’d have left bruises, Kon was pretty sure.  Tim’s mouth was hard and insistent against his, his tongue hot in Kon’s mouth, and Kon was finding it pretty hard to think about anything else, but Tim’s whole body was tense under his hands, and Kon could hear his heart thumping a mile a minute.  He opened his eyes and saw that Tim’s were screwed up tight, this time.

 

He pulled back a little, tried to soften the kiss, and Tim made a harsh noise of disapproval and surged forward again, turning it hot and hard and desperate again.  Kon’s eyes fluttered closed before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.  He curved one hand around the back of Tim’s head, feeling dark hair silky and soft against his fingers, and held him still while he pulled away.

 

Tim panted for breath, his eyes still shut tight.  His body was trembling slightly.  “What are you doing?” he asked eventually.  His voice sounded hoarse, but it was even despite his heaving chest.  His lips were swollen and wet from kissing.

 

Being with Tim, Kon had kind of gotten used to Tim being in charge.  When they’d first started sleeping together, it had bugged him that half the time Kon had decided they should have sex, Tim had actually planned the whole thing out from the beginning and practically manipulated him into starting something rather than just, you know, make a move himself.  Eventually he’d gotten used to it—after all, he had plenty of chances to get his own back, even to surprise Tim, sometimes—and gotten used to the way Tim always managed to seem like he was taking control, no matter what position he was in, to get what he wanted, whether it was fast or slow or hands or mouths or Tim was on top or on the bottom or what.  But since Kon had come back, that had been different, too.  Not that Tim hadn’t been in control, no, totally the opposite.  Tim had been clinging to control so desperately that Kon was surprised he could even get off.  He was good at hiding it, mostly because he was so good at blowing Kon’s mind into a state of semi-conscious sex-hazed bliss when he wanted to, but Kon was pretty sure sometimes he didn’t get off at all, couldn’t let himself let go that far, release that much tension, let himself lose that much control over himself.  It was starting to get downright disturbing.  Kon wasn't sleeping with _Batman_.

 

“Um,” he said.  “I want to try something different.”

 

Tim didn’t say anything or even move, but Kon could feel the tension in his body racket up a notch.

 

“Don’t freak out, man, it’s nothing weird,” he said.  Well, maybe it was a little weird.  And maybe, just maybe, it was a great idea.

 

“Hmm,” Tim said dismissively, and Kon was pretty sure that meant in new-scary-Tim-speak, _I’m not freaking out, Kon, don’t be an idiot_.  Of course, Tim was freaking out, but that was just kind of something he did, over-thought everything into some kind of tangled-up mess in his head, even if he hated admitting to it these days even more than he’d used to.  He still hadn’t opened his eyes, but his short nails were digging tightly into the skin of Kon’s arms.

 

Kon took advantage of that to lean forward and press kisses to Tim’s eyelids, stilling his little jump of surprise with both hands on his shoulders.  The delicate skin fluttered under his lips, and Tim’s breath quickened.  He curved both hands around Tim’s neck, linking them at his nape, and kissed him on the mouth again.  This time Tim let him keep it gentle and slow.  Kon could feel his breath shudder as their lips slid together, and Tim opened his mouth and breathed unsteadily under the coaxing pressure of Kon’s lips.  Kon took his time kissing him soft and open-mouthed before he slid his tongue into his mouth, let it tangle with Tim’s.  He took his hands away when it felt like Tim was going to keep kissing him back at the same gentle, unhurried pace no matter what and brought them down to start unfastening Tim’s slacks.

 

Tim didn’t complain, just shifted his own hands to do the same to Kon’s jeans, slipping his hand inside to close it solidly around Kon’s dick in the next second.  He was a lot better at multitasking than Kon was, and Kon’s breath died, strangled in his throat, as Tim slid his hand up in a slow fist, ran one callused thumb over the tip, then around the head, as he slid his own tongue forward to flick it over Kon’s teeth and the roof of his mouth.  Kon groaned, felt his hips twist helplessly, and with a huge effort of will moved one hand down to grab Tim’s wrist and tug his hand away.  “Hey,” he said against Tim’s lips, breathlessly, “not just yet.”

 

“What,” Tim said dryly, “are you waiting for permission?”

 

Kon glared at him, he smirked, and Kon pushed him down onto his back before stripping off his own jeans, boxers, and shirt as quickly as he could—which was faster than the human eye could track, even Tim’s—and crawling over Tim, straddling his hips, to hold his wrists to the floor.  “Do I have permission?” he asked between heavy breaths as he tried bring himself back under control.

 

“To do what, exactly?” Tim asked, then looked up at him and sighed.  His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, and he looked away.  “Of course you do,” he said in a low voice.  His pulse was pounding scarily fast in his wrists, under Kon’s palms.

 

“Did you just say I can do anything I want?” Kon asked, not quite sure if that was thrilling or terrifying or just _freaky_.  He was sure Tim could imagine more than he could, so yeah, wow.

 

Tim’s eyes slipped closed.  “Within reason,” he said.  “I hope.  But yes.”  He took a deep breath and tested Kon’s hold on his wrists.  Kon didn’t let go.  “Why are you holding my wrists against the floor?” Tim asked.  “Is this your new idea?  Bondage?”

 

Kon was pretty sure Tim could have gotten out of the hold if he’d really wanted to—Kon wasn’t holding him there with all his strength, because that wouldn’t be even a little fair, and when he wanted to be, Tim was about as easy to pin down as a bowl of jello.  Dick had obviously taught him well.  But yeah . . . he guessed bondage, if you were going to call it that, was, actually, the general idea.  Kon leaned forward and kissed Tim again, licking into his mouth, and Tim sighed and arched up into the kiss.  His fingers curled into fists as Kon sucked on his tongue, and his breath went uneven.  Kon tugged Tim’s arms up higher over his head, then pulled back from the kiss to ask, “You good?”  He knew bad guys liked to tie Robin up a lot; he didn’t want to bring up unpleasant memories or anything.

 

“Fine,” Tim said.  He sighed without opening his eyes, and Kon could hear the breath whoosh out of him, feel his heartbeat slow just a bit from how tense and quick it had been.  “I’m fine.”

 

“Okay,” Kon said.  “Good.”  It was strange, being on top of Tim when he was naked and Tim wasn’t, even if Tim’s unfastened slacks had slipped down around his thighs so that the bulge in his dark briefs pressed soft cotton over hot flesh invitingly against Kon’s thigh.  It was even stranger being in control like this—not total control, because he knew Tim was mostly letting him have it, but he wasn’t struggling, either, wasn’t pushing to be back in control of the pace, the speed, anything.  He really was letting Kon be in charge, which wasn’t something Tim _did_ —he was always thinking about something, about an angle.  But apparently he was doing it now. 

 

It was just—now that he had Tim in his power, Kon wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 

 _Make Tim let go_ , something in the back of his mind said.  _Of everything.  Just get him to relax.  To stop thinking._

_Fix him._

 

He wasn’t sure if he knew how to do that, if he’d ever be enough to fix Tim completely, but he’d do his best, do what he could.  Now what would Tim have done, if he’d been holding Kon down?  Tim was smart.  He always had good ideas.

 

Kon dipped his head and traced a long stripe down the inside of Tim’s bare forearm with his tongue.  He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not, but Tim shuddered, his breath hitching in his throat, so maybe it had been.  Kon shifted, moved down over Tim enough that their chests were pressed together, Tim’s slimmer, but muscular and warm beneath the thin barrier of his t-shirt.  Kon transferred his mouth to his neck, just below his ear, scraped his teeth lightly over the skin, then moved his mouth around to lick over the thudding rhythm of Tim’s pulse.  He slid his tongue over the tender place between Tim’s collarbones where it was visible just above the neck of his shirt and Tim gave a small, surprised-sounding moan and tipped his head back, his hair tickling softly against the inside of Kon’s arm.

 

Wow.  Cool.  _Awesome_.  Usually Tim didn’t make any sound at all during sex.  Kon slid his tongue over the same place again and heard Tim’s heartbeat trip all over itself as his breathing quickened, then traced his tongue along the line of Tim’s collarbone, tasting warm skin and Kevlar.  He followed the path of a scar, up Tim’s shoulder, nudging the cloth of his shirt to the side with one cheek, and Tim’s breath shuddered in his chest, the muscles in his shoulders bunching restlessly.  His wrists flexed under Kon’s hold, but he didn’t try to get free.  Kon traced his tongue back down to the sensitive place at the base of Tim’s throat again and curled it around the patch of skin, sucked lightly.  Tim gasped, hoarse and loud, and twitched his head to one side.  Kon licked the knobs of his collarbones, across that tender bit of skin again to feel the fluttering of Tim’s pulse on his tongue, then shifted his grip on his wrists so that he could move down his body and drop kisses on Tim’s muscular abdomen, pushing his shirt up with his face again.  Since he’d . . . been gone, Tim had put on a lot of muscle, though he’d never be as broad or sturdily built as Kon or even Dick was.  It was still strange to see it, feel it on him, and it was like there was nothing else left—just muscle, bone, essentials.  It was unnerving, almost scary.

 

Tim blew his breath out a little when Kon stuck his tongue in his navel, and he looked up to see one corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile.  Kon did it again, and bit the skin just above, on Tim’s stomach, and he did let out a huff of laughter this time.  “Stop that,” Tim said, huffy and a little bit breathy.

 

Kon blew into Tim’s navel and grinned when he squirmed.  “Why?” he said.  “Because it’s making you laugh?”

 

“I’m not laughing,” Tim said, only to let out another half-strangled laugh when Kon bit him again, a little harder, just beside his navel this time.

 

“Right, I forgot, you’re all grim now,” Kon said.  He licked a circle around Tim’s navel and grinned against his skin when he twisted against Kon’s hold.

 

“ _Stop_ that,” Tim said, but he still sounded like he was trying his best not to laugh.  Kon took pity on him anyway and moved up his chest, tracing shapes with his mouth.  Tim sighed and stopped pulling against Kon’s hold, relaxing again even as Kon followed scars with his lips.  Tim had a lot of them, even more than he remembered, and that made something in Kon’s chest hurt—he never scarred, and it was a reminder of how fragile Tim was in comparison, and how tough, how he could be hurt so much worse than Kon and how he fought so much harder.  Kon took his time on each one, following the scarred marks with his lips, then his tongue, pressing his mouth over them open-mouthed and wet.

 

“Why are you doing that?” Tim asked after a moment, his voice low and breathless.

 

“Does it bother you?” Kon asked, not looking up.  This was pretty far outside the realm of normal for either of them.  Usually sex between them was more like a good-natured wrestling match, or a sparring session, depending on their moods, and sometimes like a make-out session turned mutual jerking off, but it was never really like . . . this.

 

“Did I say that?” Tim countered after a moment, and Kon assumed that meant it didn’t bother him, so he continued in his slow exploration.

 

“Because you’ve got a lot more of these than I remembered,” Kon finally said, and was surprised when his own voice came out rough and low.

 

“Oh,” Tim said, whispered, really.

 

“Yeah,” Kon replied.  This was good, though.  He could pay attention to Tim for once, without him distracting him with a blowjob or something.  Tim was really good at distracting him, when he wanted to be distracting.  He licked over Tim’s nipples, bit at them when he squirmed and gasped again and was rewarded with Tim arching his back, and then moved up to kiss him again.  Tim sighed and opened his mouth eagerly, tilting his head up for the kiss, mouthing slowly at Kon’s open mouth as he kissed him wet and hot.  Warmth spread through Kon, all through his body, in a wave from the kiss, and he rolled his hips instinctively against Tim’s. Tim seemed to be all for that idea, gasping into Kon’s mouth and rubbing his own hips up against Kon’s for more friction.

 

Kon realized he was tightening his hands hard around Tim’s wrists all at once and loosened them with a jolt.  “Sorry,” he muttered, a little embarrassed.

 

“Hm?” Tim said, almost dreamily.  Kon brushed his thumb over the inside of Tim’s wrist, which was red from the force of his fingers tightening around it, and Tim shook his head.  “You think I mind?” he asked.

 

“I mind,” Kon muttered.

 

Tim shook his head at him, his eyes narrowing in that old _Conner-is-an-idiot_ look.  “You shouldn’t,” he said.

 

“Well, I do, so shut up,” Kon muttered, and kissed him again, tilting his head into it and this time keeping himself in check even as Tim bit lightly at his bottom lip, sucked it between both of his, pressed hot, warm kisses along his mouth as he worked his way inside it.  They’d always spent a lot of time kissing.  Kon liked kissing Tim, and he was pretty sure Tim liked kissing him, too.  Kon let everything else turn into background noise and float away until the only things he was thinking about were the warmth and flavor of Tim’s breath, the wet soft touch of his mouth, the sound of his heartbeat and the sturdiness of his body under him.  The way he smelled, like soap and deodorant over Kevlar and smoke and Gotham nights and warm skin and a little bit like sweat and the warm musk of sex now that they’d been at this for a while.  The way his muscles shifted under him, his arms flexing and tensing under Kon’s, stretched out over his head, even though he didn’t try to pull away.  Kon shifted to rest his weight on his knees, sliding one up between Tim’s thighs, and Tim let his legs fall open obligingly.  Kon pulled away from the kiss, and their mouths slid apart with a wet, breathless noise.  Tim grinned, a little dazedly, and his eyes crinkled up with the expression.  It had been a hell of a long time since Kon had really seen that look on his face rather than a crooked smirk or a tiny half-smile, and his breath caught in his throat.  Tim leaned up to kiss Kon again, just a quick press of their lips, and then let his head fall back.

 

“So, what’s the plan, Superboy?” he asked, and flexed his wrists again, his grin fading into one of those small half-smiles.  He rolled his hips against Kon’s thigh, and Kon had to swallow.

 

“Um,” he said.

 

“Oh,” Tim said dryly.  “I see now.”

 

Kon scowled.  “Give me a second,” he said, but Tim just ground his hips up against him again, and his thoughts scattered into sparks of heat all over again.  “Hey,” he said.  “I said stop that.”  He shifted over Tim, gathered his wrists together so he could hold them down with one hand, and took Tim’s hip in the other, holding him still.  “Stay still,” he ground out, and his voice sounded . . . so much more growly and commanding than he’d meant it to.

 

Tim shuddered all over and went still immediately.  He licked his lips and whispered, “Okay.”

 

“Can I—” Kon hesitated, feeling self-conscious now, “would you let me do whatever I wanted?”

 

Tim nodded.  His eyes had gone big, the pupils blown huge and dark, and they looked very black.  Kon traced his thumb over the bony angle of Tim’s hip, into the crease between his hip and belly, and Tim sighed and spread his legs wider, almost as if he was inviting Kon between them.  Kon trailed his thumb along the inside of Tim’s thigh, up along the hem of his briefs, then dipped it under the edge on the outside of his leg and rubbed the skin underneath.  Tim swallowed.  “I never realized you had this whole cock-tease side,” he said raggedly.

 

Kon grinned at that.  “I’m learning new things,” he said, and looked down again.  “So what if I said I wanted to suck you off?” he muttered in a lower voice, and leaned forward to press his lips to a faint, barely visible scar on Tim’s abdomen again to cover his embarrassment at saying that out loud.

 

Tim swallowed.  “Okay,” he said, his voice hoarse but hardly audible.

 

“Okay?” Kon pressed.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Tim said softly, and swallowed again.

 

“Cool,” Kon said, feeling his cheeks heating.  He curled his fingers in the waistband of Tim’s briefs and tugged them down, along with his slacks, to his knees, and Tim twisted and kicked them off. Kon shifted up to kneel between his legs again.  He slid his free hand under Tim’s thigh and tugged his hips up over his own knees, then wrapped his hand around Tim’s dick before he bent down and took the very tip of it in his mouth.

 

Tim groaned, a hoarse, low, darkly ragged sound, and arched his back, and a hot, sharp thrill shot through Kon’s body, right to his own dick, that made his hips buck up.  Tasting Tim like this was almost like kissing him, only more intense, because he didn’t taste vaguely of toothpaste and soda here, just of himself, pure and unadulterated Tim, with a little bit of sex and musk thrown in.  Kon skimmed his thumb down the side of Tim’s cock and ran his tongue around the head, searching for a spot that made Tim react, and got it when he flicked his tongue just under the head and Tim actually _whimpered_.  “Oh, _God_ , Conner,” he said, and Kon had to agree.  He sucked more of Tim’s length into his mouth, shifted so that he could take both of Tim’s wrists in his hands again, then concentrated, hard, pressing Tim’s hands against the floor with telekinesis so that he could have both hands free to brace himself as he wriggled back and sprawled out on the floor between Tim’s legs to take more of his dick into his mouth.  Tim made a sound of surprise, but he didn’t tense under the hold, not even a little, and somehow that made Kon feel warm.  He sucked hard on Tim’s dick, slid one hand between his legs to fondle his balls, press his fingers soft behind them, and Tim made a strangled sort of yelping _noise_ that sounded like it might have been a lot louder if he hadn’t been biting his lips to hold it back.  He actually moaned, low and long, when Kon swirled his tongue over the head again and pulled off to blow his breath out over the damp slickness of Tim’s cock.  After a moment he put his hand down on the floor again to support himself and looked up.

 

Tim was staring at him, his eyes glazed and dark, and as Kon watched, he licked his lips, panting.  “Kon,” he said breathlessly, and Kon could almost see him trying to think, trying to get his thoughts in order.  His hands strained against the invisible force holding them flat against the floor, then his shoulders relaxed again.  “I’d . . . always wondered if you could do that,” he finally said breathily.  “Or if you’d ever want to.  Actually.  Was . . . more what . . . what I'd wondered.”

 

“Hold you down with TTK?” Kon asked, and felt himself blush.  It did take some concentration, but he was pretty sure he could keep it up.  “Uh . . . really?”

 

“Mm,” Tim said.  He rolled his hips, almost helplessly, like he was desperate for the friction Kon wasn’t giving him, and Kon put both hands on his hips to hold them down, rubbed his fingers over the strong muscles, the stark, too-sharp bones.  Tim’s dick twitched.  “So you’re trying to make me beg?” he asked, his voice almost hard, almost sharp, except that it was still all breathy and hot.

 

“Did you want me to?” Kon asked, tracing the trail of short dark hair up Tim’s belly with his thumb.

 

Tim huffed out a laugh.  “I think the results of your little experiment should have made that pretty obvious,” he said.

 

“So you did want me to,” Kon said.  He pushed Tim’s thighs wider apart with his palms, traced his fingers over the soft skin of the inside of them and watched as Tim trembled and panted, rolling his head against the floor, his dick jumping at the touches even as Kon carefully avoided actually touching Tim's groin.

 

“Oh, God,” Tim groaned.  “I never thought you would, so I didn’t even . . . t-try to . . . or think . . . Kon, I . . . .”

 

“I was taught to ask nicely for things I want,” Kon said, teasing, and Tim growled at him.  Kon patted the inside of his thigh.  “C’mon, Timmy,” he said.

 

“I hate you,” Tim huffed, and kneed him lightly in the side.  “Could you hold my ankles . . . uh.  Down.  With TTK?  Too?  Or is that . . . too much all . . . all at . . . while you’re having sex, I mean . . . .”

 

Kon concentrated, and pinned Tim’s ankles to the floor.  Tim groaned and tugged, his legs flexing, which was nice to watch all on its own, and then Kon caught him under the knees with both hands to steady him and let his ankles free.  Tim was flushed all the way down over his chest, his cheeks fiery red, and his dick was slick and wet with pre-come.  “You really like that, huh?” Kon asked, wonderingly.

 

Tim flushed even darker and turned his face away.  “It’s something only you can do,” he mumbled.  “And . . .”

 

“And what?” Kon asked, stroking his hand along the inside of Tim’s thigh.

 

“And . . . And I . . . okay, fine, Kon, _please_ ,” Tim mumbled quickly, then made a low almost keening noise in the back of his throat when Kon leaned down and took his cock in his mouth again.  He couldn’t get it all the way into his throat, but he took Tim in as far as he could and hollowed out his cheeks and _sucked_ , moving his head up and down until Tim’s whole body was trembling and Kon’s own dick was aching at how hot it was to see Tim like that, to have Tim’s cock in his mouth and know Tim wanted Kon so badly he was shaking with it.  Kon took a deep breath in through his nose and reached up with one hand to squeeze gently around the base of Tim’s dick, swirling his tongue around the head one more time, and spared part of his brain to press Tim’s whole body down against the floor with his TTK like a giant hand holding him still.  Tim gasped, hard and ragged in the back of his throat, jerked the tiniest bit, and came into Kon’s mouth, which was the whole point, after all.  Kon swallowed, stroked and sucked him through it until Tim was spent and trembling, savoring the warmth and salt musk on his tongue, hot against the back of his throat, his own dick throbbing with neglected desire, then let go of him, the telekinetic hold dissipating as if it had never been, and pulled his mouth off Tim's cock.  He moved up to brace himself on one hand over Tim’s head and look down at him.

 

He was flushed and looked totally wrecked, messy and taken apart and, miraculously, somehow, relaxed.  He smiled up at Kon, breathless and tired and sex-dazed, and there was a sweetness to it that made Kon dip his head and kiss him.  Tim kissed him back, deeply, swirling his tongue around his mouth, and then pulled back.  “You taste like sex,” he said.

 

“Sure hope so,” Kon muttered, and Tim quirked an eyebrow at him and gave him that crooked little smirk, then rolled onto his side, spat into his hand, and reached down between Kon’s legs to close his fingers solidly around Kon’s dick and move his hand up in a quick, easy stroke, then back down, just the speed and pressure that made Kon’s breath hitch and his vision gray out.  It only took a few more strokes, and Kon knew he was right on the edge, desire knotting all hot and tight in his stomach, when Tim leaned down and slid his mouth over the tip and sucked hard and Kon was coming, a shuddering wave of pleasure crashing down over him.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Tim was lying half on top of him, still dressed in just his now rather sweat-damp t-shirt that they’d never taken off, one arm wrapped tight around Kon’s back and his head all pressed up against his shoulder.  His hair was falling forward into his face, and his eyes were closed tight against Kon’s skin.  Kon felt all blurry and glowing and dazed with the pleasantly sated feeling of sex, but he curled his arm around Tim’s back all the same and pressed his face into his hair.  He reached up and cupped Tim’s jaw with his other hand, ran his thumb up under his ear.  “Tim?” he asked.

 

“Mm,” Tim said, and shuddered, a little, against him.  “Kon.”

 

“How was that?” Kon asked, feeling oddly self-conscious, now.

 

“I can’t believe you have to ask,” Tim said, and something in his shoulders relaxed.  He opened his eyes again, and Kon stroked his hand along the muscles of Tim’s back, ran his thumb along his jaw.

 

“So what were you gonna say?  Back . . . uh.  Back there,” he asked.

 

"Forget I ever said anything?" Tim said in a low voice.

  
"No freaking way," Kon answered.

  
Tim sighed and looked away, pressed a tiny kiss to the inside pad of Kon’s palm.  He was probably trying to mentally calculate his chances of getting Kon to drop it, Kon figured, which were precisely zero.  Tim must have come to the same conclusion, because he shifted uncomfortably and started talking.  “I . . . well.”  He sighed again, cleared his throat a little, then ducked his head.  “It’s like when we’re flying together,” he said, finally.

 

“Huh?” Kon said.

 

“I know you’re not going to drop me,” Tim explained.  “And if you did, you’d catch me, anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”  He blew his breath out, then let his head rest on Kon’s shoulder again.  “I can . . . trust you, to hold me down,” he finally muttered.  “That you can do it.  And you won’t drop me.”

 

Kon's throat suddenly felt thick because that was it, that was _exactly_ it.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I’ve got your back, y’know?  You can . . . you can always . . . let go, with me.  No matter what.  I’ve got you.”

 

“Yeah,” Tim said, and sighed, closing his eyes again.  “Yeah.”

  
End.


End file.
